Do Or Die
by Hisa-Ai
Summary: Stopping mid-stroke, Arthur took the quill and put it back in the inkwell, looked back up at Merlin with a tired expression and demanded to know what was with that look Merlin always seemed to be giving him these days—because it really was becoming rather annoying and distracting—and, okay, endearing, too, in the right light, not that that was a thought was about to voice.


**This came about because of this line in Jason Derulo's "The Other Side."**

_"So tonight kiss me like it's do or die."_

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><p><em>Do Or Die<em>

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><p>*.*.*.*.*<p>

If there was one thing Arthur Pendragon knew all too well, it was the feeling of being on the brink of death, of _facing_ death, of wondering if this breath would be his last, of going into battle and knowing very well that whatever move he made had to be exceptionally calculated, had to be precise, thought out, careful. He knew all too well what it meant to carefully think out battle strategies and plans of action and routes and treaties and every single move that he made, really, it felt like.

Of course, he realized that not _everything_ he did had to be thought out, and even the most well laid plans fell apart at times. But sitting in his chambers or at a Round Table meeting with his knights or council, jaw clenched with thought at whatever issue was being chewed over or discussed, solution being sought out carefully... well, in those moments, it sometimes felt like he did need to plan everything out, needed to be aware and ready—because he did; for the safety of his people, it really was best that he and his knights were prepared for whatever might spring up.

In his days of prince, he had been so reckless, rushing in with only his need to save the innocent at the front of his mind sometimes, plan unfolding as the battle progressed, his quick thinking and ability to improvise somehow or another keeping him safe and just on the edge of staying alive.

As king, however, he came to recognize the importance of _not_ pulling such stunts as often as he was used to. Sometimes it was unavoidable, sure, and he recognized that; however, he could also recognize that if he died... his people would be left without a ruler to protect them as he had. Dying to protect them would be exactly how Arthur was going to die anyway, he was sure, but God only knew the sort of chaos that might come of things if he died without there being a clear heir, without him passing along the royal seal or giving instructions for someone to succeed him or whathaveyou.

So even if it wasn't always obvious to everyone else, he did take precautions, did ease up, and _think_ about things a bit more than he had before.

Just a bit.

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Perhaps, however, it was a bit more obvious than he thought it was. Because when he found himself deep in thought in his chambers, or mulling over a map or treaty that had been brought before him for some reason or another, there would be Merlin—naturally—watching him with a strange curiosity, unreadable expression on his face as he did so. Never too sure what to read into it, Arthur always did his best to ignore it, pretend to be much too deep in thought to notice it.

But he could only pretend for so long before he _had_ to know. Had to.

So one such night when he sat at the desk in his chambers, scribbling thoughtfully at a piece of parchment and turning over an issue that had been brought before him that afternoon by Leon, he let his eyes flick up thoughtlessly to land on Merlin, who stood in front of him, that _look_ on his face as he stared down at Arthur.

Stopping mid-stroke, Arthur took the quill and put it back in the inkwell, looked back up at Merlin with a tired expression and _demanded_ to know what the hell was with that _look_ Merlin always seemed to be giving him these days—because it really _was_ becoming rather annoying and distracting—and, okay, endearing, too, in the right light, not that that was a thought he was about to vocalize, of course—and from the way Merlin crossed his arms over his chest, Arthur was all but sure he was going to try to deny it or brush it off, and an argument of sorts would ensure—naturally.

Just as he was gearing himself up for such—because really, hadn't it been a while since he and Merlin had a good row anyway?—Merlin let out a sigh before beginning, "You're not as spontaneous as you used to be, not as... reckless—which is _good,_ of course, because it means you're not out there nearly getting yourself killed as often and as thoughtlessly as you used to, and I realize that as king, you need to be that way, need to be more... careful for the sake of your people, but..." he trailed off, shrugged, casting his eyes to the side and letting the thought fall off.

"'But'—_what_?" Arthur prompted, getting out of his chair to walk around his desk until he came to stand a few paces in front of Merlin, eyebrow raised in wondering.

"_But_," Merlin began again, turning to face Arthur, shrugging as a sly sort of grin took over his face. "I don't know... I think I miss it—the spontaneity and all that. Not the death and almost dying bit of course, but the... I don't know, reckless bit of it. It was..." Merlin cleared his throat, blush painting his cheeks as Arthur's gaze grew even more curious and intent on him before he added quickly, "_Attractive_."

Heart skipping a beat, eyes widening with Merlin's admission, Arthur swallowed, nodding slowly, trying to wrap his head around it.

Attractive.

_Well then. _

"I can still do that, you know," Arthur told him, much too quickly, he decided, when Merlin raised a wondering eyebrow in turn. "Be reckless and... spontaneous. Just... it's more for... life or death situations, do or die, and all that now. But... I'm still me, Merlin, still Arthur, still... _Attractive_—aren't I?" He asked, taking a step forward, hands itching to reach out for Merlin, wanting to be reckless and spontaneous, well, _now_, actually. He paused, however, stilling his very breath itself when Merlin took a step himself into his space, something flashing in his eyes, the moment clicking into place when Merlin shrugged in return.

"I don't know," Merlin breathed, tone teasing. "I might have to see some of this spontaneity you seem to think you're still capable of before I can decide."

Chuckling, then, Arthur nodded, took a final step forward and let his arms come to wrap around Merlin, kissing him without any further thought, letting Merlin back him against his desk and kiss him hard and rough, breathing shallow and moaning low when Merlin detached himself from Arthur's lips and took it upon himself to kiss down his jawline instead. And what was thought, actually, when he was allowing him to get lost in going with what came first and naturally when Merlin kissed him hard again and again and _again,_ the answer to Arthur's question no longer of any importance when he found himself a reckless, pleasant mess with Merlin in his bed not too much longer later.

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End file.
